


sincerity is scary

by sjlverhand



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Relapsing, Vomiting, its all like really really nondescript but I wanna tag it all just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:47:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjlverhand/pseuds/sjlverhand
Summary: Johnny wishes she would just get mad at him, honestly. For disappearing on her, for ignoring her calls, for getting so fucked up, hell, for throwing up on the floor.But Valerie was just sitting with him, holding his sweaty hair back for him and speaking softly, comfortingly even. He lets his head drop onto the toilet bowl with a thud and groans, feeling unsteady in more ways than one.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Original Female Character(s), Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	sincerity is scary

**Author's Note:**

> whelp. not to oversell but this just is what it is! im slowly working my way up to posting a real multi chapter fic. one small drabble at a time.

Johnny feels like shit. He probably looks like shit too. But he physically really feels like shit. And mentally he feels worse than shit.

He doesn’t know what exactly possessed him to go on a three day bender. Sure, he’d gotten in some stupid argument with V over something completly inconsequential, but it wasn’t like something serious happened. It hadn’t been some earth-shaking relationship ending argument. Just two people already in a bad mood because the last job they’d done had only barely ended in success. Stupid fucking shit piling up or whataver. Val had said she wanted to get some air and went on a drive. Probably drove all the way out to the badlands to see Panam so she could complain about him, or about work, or something, which was fair enough. He should have just called Kerry or, he’ll, maybe even Rogue and talked their ear off but something in his stupid fucking head told him to just go out roaming instead. See what he could find.

Well like a moth to a flame of course Johnny Silverhand found drugs and alcohol en mass. And then he’d kept finding them for two more days after that. Honestly, everything that happened was kind of a haze. Clearest memory he has is waking up in Vik’s clinic with Val’s concerned face hovering over him, in and out of focus. Then he’s pretty sure he was asleep for a while, and the next time he woke up it was to vomit on the floor next to the bed in the apartment he shared with V. 

She had helped him into the bathroom so he could sit by the toilet in a rather pathetic looking heap while she went to clean up, returning after she was done to sit near him, carding her fingers through his hair and rubbing his back soothingly. 

Johnny wishes she would just get mad at him, honestly. For disappearing on her, for ignoring her calls, for getting so fucked up, hell, for throwing up on the floor. 

But Valerie was just sitting with him, holding his sweaty hair back for him and speaking softly, comfortingly even. He lets his head drop onto the toilet bowl with a thud and groans, feeling unsteady in more ways than one.

“Hey, it’s ok baby, it’s ok.”

Val rubbed his arm gently, leaning forward to kiss between his shoulder blades. Johnny grunts.

“I don’t get it.”

“Well, drugs and alcohol can make you sick like this when used in excess.” She jokes half-heartedly, and he can feel her lips turn up into a slight smile against his skin. 

“No I don’t get it, why aren’t you mad at me?”

V is quiet for a minute, her hand pausing it’s ministrations.

“I am mad.” She replies finally, though despite her admission her tone even.

“Then why don’t you fuckin’ yell at me or some-.”

“I am mad at you, but I’m also scared, and worried too. I hate… seeing you like this.”

Johnny doesn’t really know what to say to that. If she yelled at him or fought with him or some shit like that then he’d know. Arguing is a script he can follow easily no matter how fucked up or sick or faded he is. But this, her gentle patience, that stops him dead in his tracks.

When the silence drags on a little too long V speaks up again.

“I’m not going to yell at you Johnny, I’m sure you feel shitty enough right now anyways. Anyways I. I love you so, I’m here for you, always. Even when I’m mad.”

Her words make his chest feel tight and his eyes sting, but before he can muster up a reply his stomach flips again and he jerks forward to empty his stomach again, although at this point there’s not much left to empty. When he’s done he has to rest his head again, the pounding in it gets louder each time he gets sick and he wishes he could just pass out. Used to be 3 days was nothing for him, but his body is doing a lot of adjusting these days. Turns out that, yes, 50-some years on ice can fuck with a body’s tolerance, among other things.

He’s drawn from his thoughts when V’s hands resume their work drawing nonsensical soothing patterns along his arm and across his back, which coupled with the cool tile of the bathroom does make him feel a little better. 

She doesn’t press him for any kind of response so he takes some time to think. He doesn’t know what to say to her beyond sorry, and thank you. He almost has to laugh at himself. Fucking pathetic that that’s all he can offer her. Sorry and thank you. It feels like he’s always saying that to her, always fucking always. He’s never felt more loved by anyone in his life, but he’s also never felt less deserving. Johnny Silverhand, Night City’s most legendary fuck up.

He promised her back in that dingy oil field that he wasn’t going to fuck up his second chance and yet here he was saying sorry and thanks like the same fucking asshole he was back on that biochip. 

Johnny wonders how he ended up with V sometimes. Some stroke of cosmic luck landed him in her head. There’s not a lot of people left on the planet that had the patience for him. Even less that actually cared. And fucking astronomically less that would give up their life for him and somehow manage to cheat death again just to come back and  _ still  _ be willing to take care of him when he goes off the rails.

He closes his eyes for a minute, just listening to the sound of their quiet breathing and the hum of the AC in the apartment.

“I’m sorry.” He says finally, because he knows he has to say that even if he doesn’t know how to follow it up yet. Doesn’t know how to explain that being angry makes him do this shit. 

“‘Me too, I’m sorry if, if I did or said something that upset you enough to do this. And I forgive you, of course I do, but...” 

Johnny’s back tenses at the teary wobble in her voice. Fuck, he’s really fucking done it now.

“Just, I forgive you, Johnny, I do, but just please don’t disappear again like that. I thought you left. I thought that you weren’t going to come back or that, fuck, that I was going to find you in some fucking alleyway.” Her voice breaks, and she sniffles loudly before continuing, “Please just come home even if we fight or something or whatever, ok? Just tell me you won’t walk away from me again.”

He thought he couldn’t feel worse about himself than he did when he woke up in the apartment and puked his guts out, but he was wrong. That was nothing compared to the feeling of V’s warm tears dripping down onto his back as her body shook with stifled sobs despite her best efforts to hold still and keep calm. 

Johnny inhales, deep, and after assessing that his stomach would (hopefully) hold up for a bit, he twists around, awkwardly maneuvering them both until he had V in his lap, her legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he held her tightly against him and tucks her head into the crook of his neck. 

“Ok, I can promise that. I’m not going anywhere.” He replies, continuing with a lighter tone, trying to joke but it falls flat with exhaustion and something else, “You’re the only person left on this earth that actually wants to see my face everyday, I think.”

Val responds with a teary puff of laughter against his throat. 

“It’s a handsome face, I’m lucky.”

“See now that’s crossing a line. You’re being too nice, something is definitely up.”

Val squeezes him.

“Well, that’s just how sad and pathetic you look right now!”

“Ok thanks for the review, crying lady.”

His taunt is immediately met by a playful nip to the throat, and he smiles into her hair. He feels like a weight is sliding off his shoulders, little by little, even with his head still throbbing.

‘Yeah’ he muses to himself, ‘ I’m damn lucky.’

**Author's Note:**

> V leading by example!!! u dont just, oh I dunno, take over someones body and leave when they get a hangover, Johnny.  
> anyways thanks as always for reading!! (´∀｀)♡


End file.
